Once Upon A Time
by MissMisery152
Summary: Sara has been gone for more than half a year and it's killing Greg. Inspiration comes from "Once Upon A Time" from the musical "Brooklyn". read on, first fanfic attempt. ONESHOT


Author's Note: OK guys, this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, so take it easy on me. Any grammatical errors are all my fault…but point them out because I'm and English / Secondary Education major and they are just unacceptable. HAHA. Ok, well, here goes nothing, eh? Oh, inspiration came from the song "Once Upon a Time" from "Brooklyn: the Musical"

It had been months since she had left. Naturally, things at the lab had been upturned and people had been upset, but for the most part, everyone was back to normal. Well, aside from 2 individuals; the night shift supervisor and the lab rat turned field mouse.

Yes, Greg Sanders was still heartbroken over the fact that Sara had left. She had left her job, her boyfriend, and her life. But more importantly, she had left him, and she didn't even say goodbye. Greg was angry at first. Why shouldn't he be? This woman had been his mentor, his support and most importantly, his friend. His best friend and she had just up and left like he didn't even matter.

But he couldn't be mad anymore. Clearly, she had to do things for her. He had contemplated calling, but decided against. Give her space. It's what she wants his brain would tell him. So that's what he did. But he had given he space for months. I was time to find out where she was, how she was doing, and why she left.

_Has anyone ever read you a fairy tale._

_And taken you to places magical_

_Where homes are made of gingerbread and skies are always blue_

_Where pumpkins turn to coaches and wishes all come true_

What the fuck is this on the radio? Greg mused as he put his Honda Civic in reverse and peeled out of the LVPD parking garage and into the bright sun of a Las Vegas morning. He shook his head at the Broadway tunes and threw in his latest mix CD. It had all his classics ranging from Manson to the Misfits. The 20 minute drive home had Greg thinking about Sara. He had to call her. He had to know where she was, if she was all right, anything. He had to start sleeping again at night. Sometimes, he couldn't decide what was worse; losing sleep over the inquest, or losing sleep over Sara. The latter always won. He dug into his glove box and lit a cigarette as he slowed for a red light. No, he wasn't a chronic smoker, but the case he pulled and Sara were driving him nuts.

_Has anyone ever sung you a lullaby?_

_You can fly above the rain clouds_

_Close your eyes_

_Let the melody carry you_

_Leave all your fears behind_

_You can float across a rainbow sky to once upon a time_

Jesus Christ! He thought. This fucking song was everywhere. Stopped at a red light and in-between songs he heard it coming from the car next to him. The girl smiled, and continued to sing along as the light turned green.

Greg's apartment building wasn't anything fancy. It was in a decent area of Vegas, the perfect size for one person, and fairly priced. And his apartment, was totally him. When he had been in DNA he had a lot of time to spend at home, and a lot of money to spend, which lead to tons of video games and movies that now sat on shelves next to his TV collecting dust. A few years ago his fridge and cupboards would have been stocked with food and drink, but since becoming an investigator, he had a lot less time on his hands. He hadn't been grocery shopping in months. Indian take-out on speed dial had become his nutrition, and the fridge, which used to house everything from Red Bull to orange juice now held a case of beer that was still half full, some condiments, and left over take out food.

Greg stumbled into his apartment after pulling a triple totally set on drinking away his memory from the crime scene and vegging out in front of his TV. Walking in he lit another cigarette. Meh, old habits die-hard. Is it considered alcoholism to drink at 9am? He thought as he opened the fridge. He was about to answer himself with a yes when something caught his attention. There was food, actual food in there. Sufficiently creeped out, he backed away and took a long drag of his cigarette, Sure, he drank, he smoked, but he definitely wasn't high, and he knew that he didn't go shopping. Am I in my apartment? Was the next thought. Greg turned around to take in his surroundings. Counter covered in newspapers, crime scene kit by the balcony door, clothes everywhere. Yeah, this was definitely his apartment.

_I believed in miracles (once upon a time)_

_I believed love would conquer all (once upon a time)_

_I believed anything was possible_

There was that song again! That's it. He was losing it. Maybe I'm better off going to sleep. He thought and trudged down the hallway towards his bedroom. Something wasn't right. His door was closed. He never leaves the door closed. It's a paranoia thing; ever since he had become an investigator he doesn't like to know what's behind closed doors. This was definitely one of those situations. Very hesitantly he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and put a tentative hand on the door knob.

_And I believed again the moment when_

_I saw you here tonight_

There she was. Folding his clothes and arranging them neatly in his dresser. She was humming along to that infernal Broadway song. All he could do was stare. There she was. The reason he couldn't sleep at night. The reason he became an investigator. Hell, the reason he stayed in Vegas after his inquest. Seven months of being gone, and she was in his apartment, nonchalantly tidying his home, like nothing had ever happened. Like, dare he say it, like she was his girlfriend.

"Sara?" Greg asked with hesitance. He put the cigarette back to his mouth and took a last drag before walking over to the ashtray on the nightstand and stubbing it out.

She turned around, startled to see him. "Oh, hi Greg," she said and then turned back around to continue her work.

Greg didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to say. Hell, he didn't even know what to do. So he sat on the edge of the bed and went to light another one.

"Don't you dare smoke again. You know I hate that smell," she said without turning around.

"You don't find this odd?" He asked finally finding his voice to speak. She didn't respond.

"Really Sar, where have you been? Why did go? What did you do? Wait, no, why are you here?" Greg asked his voice getting loud and impatient.

"I'm came here for you," she said, still not turning around. He had heard the before. When he had been beaten to a bloody pulp. She had come there for him.

"How the fuck did you get in?" He asked, disregarding her statement. He wasn't in the mood for her to fuck with his feelings again.

"Don't curse at me. I talked to you landlord. Nice guy, really," she trailed off. Sara finally turned to look at him. He was sitting on the edge of his bed. His hands holding the back of his head, elbows on knees. He looked defeated, tired, spent. He raised his head and his eyes met hers.

"I came here for you," she repeated, sitting down next to him.

He continued to keep her gaze. "Why?"

She looked away. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she wasn't ready to tell him. "I-" she started, but didn't finish. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. Their eyes met again. "I-I left because I was scared. I finally was with Gil. Which is the only reason I came to Vegas in the first place. But I didn't think I would meet you. So even when I was with Gil, after all the time I waited, I realized that I wasn't in love with him anymore. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes, but then got scared. I left. But when I did, I thought about you, not him. I thought about how much I hurt you, not him. So I came back. For you," she finished.

Greg continued to gaze at her. Here she was, confessing her love for him. Or was she? "I-I don't even know what to say Sara," he started, but never got the chance to finish.

"This was a bad idea. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have broken in. I'm sorry," she said and got up, practically running towards the door.

Thinking quickly, Greg got up to follow her. He wasn't going to let her leave again. She came here for him. And she was going to stay with him damnit. "Sara wait!" He caught up with her and pulled on her arm towards him. Without thinking about anything else, he leaned down and kissed her. He was unsure at first, but when she moved to kiss him back he deepened it and kissed her like he had never kissed anymore. Full of passion, forgiveness, joy and hope. She broke the kiss and blushed. They didn't say anything. Just stood in his living room holding each other.

"Well this is awkward," he joked and felt her fist connect with his side playfully.

"This feels right" she mused, muffled from her face being buried in his shirt. He smelled like Polo, cigarettes, and something that was uniquely Greg.

"Good," he said.

Now once upon a time has never felt more right 

Love it? Hate it? Confused by it? Remember, first attempt here folks. Tell me what you think.

3 Ell. Dee.


End file.
